


The first longest date in history

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anthea (Sherlock) is the Best PA, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 02:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20302291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: - I'm not angry!- Oh, okay, sorry. Between the grunts, the monosyllables, the murderous glances, the corporal tension and the throwing of objects to the ground... I must have misunderstood something.





	The first longest date in history

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock belongs to Doyle and the characters are based on the work of Moffat and Gatiss.  
Written for the challenge of the Facebook group Mystrade is our division: a fic that includes the word Cup.  
English is not my first language, this was translated with the translator Deepl, I regret any error.  
Thank you for reading and commenting.

\- I'm not angry!  
\- Oh, okay, sorry. Between the grunts, the monosyllables, the murderous glances, the corporal tension and the throwing of objects to the ground... I must have misunderstood something.  
Greg sighed, exasperated, as Mycroft picked up the jacket from where he had thrown it... He really had no right to be upset, but he couldn't help it. He took a sip from his cup and took a deep breath.  
\- Sorry, Mycroft, it hasn't been a good day.  
Actually his day had been excellent, as he had spent it thinking that that night would meet, as every Friday night for several years now, with Mycroft. He enjoyed every minute of conversation with him, and every second of comfortable shared silences. There was a complicity between the two that created a relaxed and almost magical atmosphere, something in the air that made him forget the clock and that there was a world beyond that room. What began as a camaderia relationship had soon led to a solid friendship, no one knew the eldest of the Holmes brothers better than Greg, no one had seen him laugh and relax like him, and no one else had witnessed how the man's armor cracked in its worst moments.  
Mycroft, too, had always been there for him. Never imposing himself, but seeming to guess when the detective needed it. Only a reassuring and comforting presence, without empty words or pity glances. Sometimes just listening to him in silence, sometimes consoling him in his own way, with sharp comments that made him laugh in spite of everything, sometimes sitting the two of them, without speaking, in front of the fireplace, with a glass in his hand until he felt at peace.  
Yes, Mycroft had always been there for him, they shared a sarcastic sense of humor and a mastery of logic that made them guess What the other one was thinking without words , a look, a raised eyebrow, a mocking smile or a frown were more than enough. And although Mycroft was even smarter than Sherlock, he never made him feel like an idiot.   
And Greg had ended up falling in love with him. He knew there would never be anything between them. He wasn't going to risk the best he had by not being able to stop thinking about his stupid feelings. Mycroft didn't have relationships beyond what was necessary. He was a lonely man, accustomed to being emotionally independent. That he had let Greg into his life, that he was one of the few people the analyst trusted was already a gift. He wasn't going to spoil it by wanting something that Mycroft couldn't give him.  
Greg had been fine with that. Until that afternoon, when he received Anthea's call:  
\- Lady Alice has stopped by to leave some documents. You'd think we didn't pay the trainees, wouldn't you? She reminded Mr. Holmes that they have "a drink pending.  
Greg had suppressed a sigh as he pressed the phone against his ear.  
\- ¿Y? It is not a crime to invite a colleague for a drink. I can't stop her for that.  
\- This is not like you and John having a drink, we both know what Lady Alice intends to have after that drink.  
This time she couldn't avoid snorting while rubbing her forehead.  
\- Even so, they are both adults. What Mycroft does with his private life is none of my business.  
\- Oh no? Really? Well, it's definitely my business when it complicates my existence. And if it's my problem, it's everybody's problem, I'm that generous.  
\- And how does it affect you that Lady what's her name and Mycroft have a drink?  
\- Oh, it doesn't seem so, does it? But it will affect me. I've seen it before. The boss starts going out with someone, and before you know it, that someone is walking through your sanctuary, that is, your office, as if it were their home, calling you "sweetheart" and asking you to bring them coffee or walk the poodle while they talk in the office.  
Greg was glad the woman couldn't see how she shuddered at the mention that Mycroft could date someone.  
\- Aren't you exaggerating a bit?  
\- Oh, no, not at all. And it won't just be a problem for me. Sherlock will go crazy when he stops being the center of his brother's attention and he'll get in trouble again, without Mr. Holmes to keep an eye on him. Why Lady Alicia is not one of those who starts a relationship with someone and everything goes on as usual. Lady Alice is the kind of person who initiates a relationship and demands to be the center of the universe. It will take him away from all of us. No more Diogenes, no more abandoned warehouses. Just work, home and boring receptions with boring politicians. Which will drive Dr. Watson and his entire Yard team crazy, what...  
\- Yeah, okay, yeah, I get it. Still, there's nothing I can do.  
\- Well, if you say so... I'll start looking for a restaurant for Mr. Holmes and Lady Alicia's date. Maybe I'll start looking for salons to celebrate the wedding.  
Without further ado, Mycroft's assistant had hung up, also taking his good mood and leaving a strange tingling in his stomach.  
Sherlock's text: "Lestrade, espabila!" hadn't helped either.  
He forced himself to turn his attention to Mycroft, who looked at him clearly confused.  
\- Well, what about your day - he was forced to start a banal conversation.  
\- Oh, well, the usual: small crises, big idiots, Sherlock being insufferable, Anthea doing as she pleases. Nothing out of the ordinary.  
\- Really? Nothing new? No surprise meeting? Nothing... memorable?  
Greg tried to make it look like a harmless question and felt it failed miserably. Luckily, Mycroft was filling the glasses and didn't seem to notice.  
\- No. The only person I didn't expect to see today was Lady Alice. She's a little... Rare. More than usual. He still insists on having a drink. We already drank a glass of water the other day after the meeting. Why do she insist so much? Can't she drink alone? And she won't even tell me why she wants us to do something like that...  
Greg used the glass to hide his smile. Was the man really that innocent?  
\- That Lady Alice... Is it important?  
Mycroft seemed to hesitate for a moment.  
\- Yes. Quite a bit, yes. It is... It's someone you'd rather have as an ally.  
\- Is she... attractive?  
\- ... Yes, I suppose some would define it that way.  
\- I see... So, will you do it?  
\- Will I do what?  
\- Accepting his invitation.  
\- Why is it important?  
\- It's not important... Well, yes! I mean, we're talking. This is a conversation and whether or not a person is going out with someone is something that would be mentioned in a normal conversation. I don't see why you get upset over a simple question!  
Greg suddenly fell silent, realizing that he had been raising the pitch and increasing the speed of his words as he squeezed the glass in his hand. Mycroft looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
\- I don't think I'm the one who's upset, Gregory. But if you're so interested, the answer is no.  
Greg let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding, leaving the glass on the table.  
\- Why not?  
\- I didn't...  
\- Oh, I know, you don't date people, you don't relate, you don't get together to just have a drink, you don't waste time with banal conversations.  
\- Exactly. I don't date people, Gregory.  
Greg got up and started walking around the room, exasperated.  
\- Sure. Because the great Mycroft Holmes can't have a date, meet for a drink and...  
Suddenly he fell silent, turning to Mycroft, who looked at him with a strange smile, half funny, half sad, on his face, his brain realizing something he had overlooked.  
\- And yet here we are, Gregory. Having a drink, like every Friday, having a conversation.  
Greg was paralyzed, his heart pounding, as he analyzed what he had just discovered, wondering if it could be true. Mycroft didn't date people. But they had been there, like every Friday night, for more than a decade.  
Mycroft, cold, sarcastic and inaccessible, with everyone except him.  
\- I don't date people, Gregory. I meet with you. I don't have a drink and I don't have conversations with people, Gregory. I do it with you.  
Greg's eyes fogged slightly as he knelt in front of the official.  
\- Mycroft... You... I... So this is... It has always been...  
Mycroft approached him, leaning his forehead against his.  
\- The longest first date in history? Probably.  
He couldn't help laughing and felt the tension disappear as he surrounded Mycroft with his arms, breathing in his scent. The redhead hugged him back, stroking his neck.  
\- Does that mean I can kiss you now?  
Mycroft answered by kissing him on the temple.  
\- Please, I've been waiting ten years.


End file.
